Afterglow
by rookieD
Summary: (Post 4.13) Sam smiles at Andy, Andy smiles at Sam. McSwarek get their mojo back on.


_Afterglow A/N: this is a companion piece to another fic that I haven't been able to finish, (and am not sure if I ever will). The working title of that one is 'the third first time around', that should give you a hint on what this one's about. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Rookie Blue_

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**Afterglow**

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"You...okay?" she whispers, lips feeling out the shell of his ear. She is relying on touch to get a sense of how he is. Stopped being able to watch him about 10 minutes ago -

Her bedroom is dark. As in, not even moonlight is shining in here tonight. Not even a hint. She wonders whether maybe there's some kind of eclipse...then reminds herself she knows for a fact that's not the case. She keeps an eye out for those sorts of things in advance.

His foot touches hers, rubs at her ankle, then arch. He leaves it there, another body part of his that is keeping her warm.

She skims a palm across his bare chest, scratches a little when she hovers around the steady thump-thump of his heart.

He kisses her. Right in amongst the unruly nest that has been constructed out of her hair this past few hours or so. (He had a lot to do with the state that it's in; what with the way he tangled his fingers in there when he first got her onto the bed).

"Never better," he mutters his reply, eventually, sleepily. Kisses her on top of the head a few more times, combing through her hair with his fingers to make sure his lips touch her skull.

She smiles small, slides her foot up his calf. Tickles at the muscle definition there using her toes.

One of his hands reaches to hold onto hers, squeezes. "Better than ever," he clarifies low and hoarse, maybe talking about their preceding love-making sessions as well as his health. His voice sounds like sex, so she's actually certain he's referring to both. Without even looking up she can tell that he's sporting a JD kind of grin.

(Today was their first time since...well, since. Seven weeks of being all kinds of careful, waiting and wanting, despite neither of them actually wanting to wait -

Anyway, that wanting and waiting, and all that came before that, led to something special...a renewal of _this_ part of _them_ some time shortly after their dinner dishes got cleaned -

As in, sometime after he flicked her with a friendly tea towel and smiled).

She smiles bigger at the thought of his smile then and the one he might have now, rubs her own into the familiar muscle around his shoulder so a laugh doesn't escape. Without a doubt he'll be able to feel the heat from the blush that is now invading her face. "Best," she mumbles into his arm, in the vicinity of his tattoo. It's half question, but mainly she's wanting to assure him he is. "Ever."

(And he is. He really, really is. When he's inside of her, she feels like a god.)

He laughs softly. The kind of laugh that now reminds her of zamboni drivers. He strokes his other warm hand over her hip before pinching her there. "You and me. We make a great team."

She does look up then. Smiles into the darkness, but at least so it's some place he _would_ see...if anyone could see in this dark.

She knows he's smiling back at her. She can't actually see it in full force. But she knows he is. From what she can make out, it's definitely a smile that an 'Ernie' would have. It inspires her to break some more ice of her own -

She slides her body up a little; further draping her limbs over him. Positions herself in such a way not to give him all of her weight, but enough to let him know she is _his_ whenever he wants.

He circles an arm around her, brushes light-fingered strokes on her back.

Her warm skin goes warmer, despite the bumps that spring up with his touch. She leans her face in to his -

Takes her sweet time in tracing his features carefully with the outermost tip of her nose. Starts with his nose and works her way up, across his forehead, down and around his cheek to his jaw. She holds her balance by keeping one hand on his shoulder and continues to smile as she goes -

He hasn't stopped smiling either. That's a thing she can tell. "If you're tryin' to shave me, you're gonna need something sharper than that," he jokes, light and soft, while some of his fingertips tip-toe up her spine.

Some air escapes out of her mouth. She would've laughed except for how focused she is on learning his features all over again. "I like you like this," she whispers, referring to his day old stubble, his healed wounds, his _everything_. "I missed being this close to your face."

She hears him swallow. Feels his smile fade as he does. He's definitely not displeased with what she said though. Maybe a little sad, but not angry at all. His hand strokes all the way back down, almost to the top of her thigh. "I missed being this close to _you_," he responds in the same voice he's been telling her he loves her since he woke up on that stupid hospital bed. He grips at her with his fingers, tugging until her leg swings all the way over, straddling his groin.

He's solid and hard.

Everywhere.

Again.

The length of him nestles into the inner and uppermost crease of her thigh. Waiting and hot. His chest rises and falls heavily beneath her.

Her body reacts too. It yearns for all that solid and hard to be pressing the softest parts inside of her...

Again.

She holds her breath, stretches; arching enough to leave some space between her breasts and him. Her hips on the other hand tilt in a downward direction, searching and shifting until he's pressing against where she is wet.

She releases a sigh. Feels light-headed already. Tells herself not to come.

(Has had 4 orgasms already tonight, surely she can restrain herself here).

So, she holds the position, keeps herself together and tight. Basks in the feeling of him just being _there_, opens her mouth and closes her eyes. Shuts them tighter still when their pulses connect.

Tonight is a world that they're in all alone. Not a bubble though, it's a space more malleable than that -

"And I like you liking me like this," he murmurs. He skims both of his hands up her sides and all the way around until he's got his thumbs circling her nipples. "And..." He whispers, then breaks momentarily to put his mouth on one of her breasts.

She sighs again, moves her hips to create some friction she's starting to need -

"I love you. Like this," he continues, gently rolling the pad of his thumb over where he just had his teeth.

She bites into her lip. Decides she will never tire of hearing him saying 'love'. In whatever context. But especially this.

She rolls her hips some more - succeeds in her aim of having his cock fuck over her clit -

She groans, feels herself climb to the edge of wanting to say his name a few times.

He puts his tongue on her other nipple while she moves on him, sucking, just lightly, before he uses his mouth to say more. His words blurring the line between telling her what he thinks of her...and what he wants her to do: "Like that."

The sensation coursing through her body is like a series of wires, one by one being reconnected to their electricity supply. The place inside of her, where she wants him, is starting to ache. He was there, soothing the agony he creates less than a half hour ago. But her need for him in this way is as desperate as it always is. It is a painful ecstasy that makes her feel like she might shatter when he does finally go that deep again.

He pushes his hips up a little, a move that has her opening up. The soft snick sound of what's happening between them turns her on even more.

She rotates her pelvis slow and careful, letting him feel _everything_ - all of _her_.

He swipes a hand slow down her front, barely touching. The gesture leaves a flushed trail all the way down her core -

He stops when he's reached a point between them. The place where they're most together, but not quite. He uses three fingers, takes his time to explore what's happening to her. What's happening to _them_.

Beads of sweat are starting to work their way across the places that her goosebumps once were. And his amplified breathing is like a drug he's injecting into her own occasional gasps.

"Like everything," he says, voice completely ragged and rough on the edges between breaths. The hand that's not between them is now restless and wandering on her backside; clinging, holding, pressing and tugging to get her where he now needs her to go.

"Like nothing else," he tells her finally, no longer a whisper, determined and clear as he drives himself up, one long, smooth stroke until he's all the way inside of her, pressing at that _part_...the part that makes her unfurl...

"Sam, Sam, S..." She releases, dropping forward to fold into his chest, be comforted there while she lets him take her over and over again. She spends what feels like an eternity in that state; jelly to liquid to air, everything melting, reducing, evaporating -

Before he builds her back up. His touch, his movement, his desire, his love for _her._ Those things all working together to replenish the strength she needs to give hers as well -

She grinds herself down, forward and _hard_. Holding his shoulders for leverage, she _takes_ him as far as she can -

"Andy." He says her name like it's a prayer. Both a request and thanksgiving. A statement on every moment between them before, now, and after. One that drives her desire to push and pull with him more -

He comes at the crest of her sixth climax, the pair of them making noise like crashing waves. She tucks herself back in his chest as their bodies slow down, keeps holding him as he regains his breath.

He clears his throat when he's stable, finds some words a while after that. He wipes a few errant, sticky tresses away from her face. "You...okay?"

She can see his face clearly now, eyes finally adjusting to the night. She figures he can see hers as well. She smiles at him; soft and happy and trusting and hopeful. She nods her head slowly, confirms her response by putting her lips on his and kissing him deep as they both lull toward sleep -

...

When she awakes the next morning the sun is there in the sky. Exactly where it belongs. It's bright and cheerful, sending beams into the room.

She feels warm and content, ready for whatever the day offers up. Ready to offer a few things to it herself.

She can smell the scent of him, her, and _them_. She smiles. About everything. Mainly about the fact that there's no place she'd rather be. No one else she'd want to be with -

He is still partly beneath her, wrapped up under one leg and one arm. She is directly facing his shoulder and she wants to see more.

She raises her head a little, gets her eyes on his face.

He is watching her. In fact, it's pretty evident that he's been doing that for a while. He doesn't look like a person who has just woken up -

Today when he smiles at her she sees clearly. This smile is _Sam_. "Good morning," he whispers, like the greeting is only for her.

"It is the best," she whispers back, a smile that only he puts on her face.

_end_.


End file.
